


Adjustments & Agreements

by WallFlowerWriter



Category: Kate & Leopold (2001)
Genre: Career Crises, F/M, Self-Doubt, The effects of sending a 21st century woman back to 1876, mentions of suicidal intent, time-travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-15
Updated: 2016-11-16
Packaged: 2018-08-31 05:22:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8565631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WallFlowerWriter/pseuds/WallFlowerWriter
Summary: Kate and Leopold are happy in the past. Stuart and Charlie are happy in the present. Easy-Peasy, right? Unfortunately, when it comes to time travel, matters are rarely that simple.





	1. Just Might Find

Charlie insisted that they go out and celebrate after they found Kate (or should Stuart say Lady Katherine Mountbatten, Duchess of Albany) on Google. She and Leopold had lived long, happy lives, eventually having two children, a boy called Stuart (he would be flattered if Charlie hadn’t looked just a little crushed) and a girl called Charlotte (He did point out that their daughter was technically named after her uncle and she had been born first). Anyway, Charlie wanted to celebrate his sister’s glorious legacy and so they were going out. And not out in the way Stuart liked to go out, oh no. They were going Out, with a capital O, on a bender.

“I’m on some pretty heavy painkillers you know Charlie, I probably shouldn’t be drinking.” He offered weakly in the cab, but by then it was too late. Charlie had already got it in his thick head that they were going out (apparently this whole ‘sending his sister back through time’ thing had made them best buddies or something), and so out they would be going.

“So don’t drink.” Charlie suggested casually. “Stay sober and take care of me.” After throwing up just a little bit in the back of his throat at the thought of that, Stuart shook his head.

“I think I’ll just risk hospitalisation, Chuck.” Shrugging, Charlie passed him a little bottle of vodka, pulled from his pocket, gotten from God only knows where. At Stuart’s frown, the other man grinned, quickly downing one of his own.

“Kate has tonnes of these at the back of one of her cupboards, I think she must collect them when she goes to big hotels, and I figured, since she’s not gonna drink them now...” Stuart didn’t bother reminding Charlie that he should be talking about his sister in the past tense now, since technically she had been dead since 1922, since Charlie already knew that and was probably just working through it. Stuart opened his bottle and took a tentative sip. It wasn’t expensive stuff, only Smirnoff, and it burnt his throat going down, but it was nice. Grounding almost. The past week, it had been unbelievable. The theory he’d been postulating since college, confirmed, the theory that time was an infinite loop, with only a little more research to be done, also confirmed. His ex-girlfriend, who had, at the start of the last week, hated him? Now they were buddies and he’d helped her go back in time to marry her true love, who just happened to be the Duke of Albany, inventor of the elevator. Not to mention his little stint in hospital and the psych ward. God, the more Stuart thought about it, the more insane it all sounded, no wonder he’d been institutionalised.

He finished off the vodka with one last gulp and held out his hand expectantly towards Charlie. The other man laughed and handed him another mini-bottle, this one of whiskey. He downed that one as quick as he could, coughing at the taste. Glancing out the window of the cab, he couldn’t help but wonder. Were Kate and Leopold reuniting somewhere in the past even as he sat there and drank? He hoped so. He had never seen Kate quite as happy as she had been with Leopold, not ever in the four years they had spent together. In a way, he was almost jealous. Kate had been as awful to him as he’d been to her, if not more-so, she’d shocked both he and poor Bart _a lot_ since they’d broken up, but now she had her happily-ever-after? Seemed a little bit unfair to Stuart. Especially as his theory would never be accepted in the scientific community.

The theory of time-travel, when proposed in all seriousness, was generally scorned in the scientific community. At best, it made you look a little quirky, at worst it made you look like a loon and Stuart had never had the best of luck. He knew that all of the evidence he’d collected could be dismissed as faked, the photographs staged, the equations nonsensical. Obviously he and Charlie knew this wasn’t true, but without some indisputable, tangible proof, he’d be a laughing stock to everyone else. And when (if, he reminded himself, if, if, if) his little stint in the hell that was the Psych Ward came to light, he’d be outright disgraced.

He groaned and lowered his head in to his hands. The biggest scientific breakthrough of the century and the only people that could back him up were a couple currently living in the late 19th century and a failing actor. Brilliant.

“Uh, Stu? You OK there?” Speaking of the failing actor (OK, that was a little mean, maybe thus-far-unsuccessful actor was a better descriptor), Charlie was looking over at him, concerned. “You look a little pale.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m OK, I was just, just thinking.” Charlie slumps back in his seat, looking relieved.

“Oh, OK, good. I thought maybe you were freaking out on me for a second there, buddy.” Stuart shook his head and there was a moment of silence between them. “What’re you thinking about?” Stuart snorted at the way Charlie said that, like a curious kid, and shrugged.

“Just stuff. Time travel could be the biggest scientific discovery of…well of all time, and there is not a single soul, aside from you and Gretchen-” Charlie’s brows furrowed at the mention of the nurse he’d never met “-will ever believe me. Effectively, I’m a failure of a physicist, and my life’s work has been for nothing.” Stuart looked up and found Charlie staring at him, eyes wide.

“So you’re just having a little existential crisis there, huh Stu?”

“Don’t call me Stu. And it’s not an existential crisis, it’s just a little moment of self-doubt.”

“Well, you know what always helps me in my moments of self-doubt, Stewie?”  

“OK, definitely don’t call me Stewie. What?” Grinning slightly manically, Charlie dug his hands in to his pockets and drew out two handfuls of mini-bottles.

“Alcohol!” It was not the most elegant solution, but it _was_ a solution (both literally and metaphorically), he supposed, reaching out  and taking a few of the bottles to down before they reached the bar or the club, or whatever this place that Charlie had chosen was. Charlie was already on his fourth bottle of vodka. Stuart sighed.

It was going to be a long night.

_

It was indeed a long night. Charlie had, unbeknownst to Stuart, invited his new girlfriend Patrice along for a few drinks (the place he’d chosen was some hole-in-the-wall bar with dingy lighting and a sticky bar-top) and the two had evidently decided to spend the night trying to inhale one another.

“Charlie. Charlie. CHARLIE!” Charlie finally turned to face him, lips shiny with spittle and Patrice’s lip-gloss. Stuart couldn’t even begrudge Charlie the attention he was lavishing on the woman. She was stunningly hot, after all.

“Dude, what?! I’m kinda busy here!” As if to emphasise his point, Charlie gestured emphatically to Patrice, almost hitting her in the face in the process.

“I think I’m gonna head home, this place isn’t really my scene.” Charlie sighed and turned his body to face Stuart, slipping an arm over Patrice’s shoulder.

“No, c’mon, don’t go. Look, we didn’t mean to ignore you, we just got a little…Carried away. We’ll stop, just stick around for a little longer, please?” He fixed Stuart with the worst puppy-eyes he’d ever seen, and Stuart found himself nodding. Sighing, he agreed.

“Fine. But only for one more drink, OK?” Grinning, Charlie nodded and nudged Patrice.

“OK, we’ll go get the next round.”  And with that, off they headed to the bar, leaving Stuart behind. He sighed, unhappy to be back with only his thoughts. He’d moved on from the death of his career now, on to another, equally depressive, subject: Leopold and Kate. Kate and Leopold. True love embodied in one 19th century Duke and one career-driven bit-

OK, that wasn’t fair. During their entire relationship, Stuart had been every bit at fault for its failings as Kate had. They’d both been too concerned about their careers to properly commit to one another. By the end of those four long years, they’d been more like enemies than past partners, always lashing out at one another just on the off chance they might land a blow. But still… Kate had treated him as badly as he’d treated her, hell, she’d even shocked his dog which was just not cool, really, what had poor Bart ever done to her?  

But, that having been said, she had still been a pal, and he was glad she’d found true love, mostly, but he just wished that her going in to the past hadn’t halved his pool of friends.

‘Actually, thinking on that, I should probably do some more research, see how she did back then.’ He thought, resolving to head to the library the next day. He smirked at the brief thought of Kate in those huge ball gowns, trying her best to dance some waltz or another. Poor Leopold would probably never hear the end of how impractical the fashions of his time were. He wondered, not for the first time, if Kate was truly happy in the past with Leopold. So many of the values then were so different from her own, not to mention the societal expectations that would be placed on her. Stuart wondered if he’d done the right thing, sending Kate back.

He supposed he must have done. Google had said she’d lived until the ripe old age of 77, so she clearly mustn’t have been too upset by her new life. And besides, if she had (or did, as the case may be) truly, utterly hated it, she had his notes. She didn’t know she had his notes, he’d handed copies over to Leopold before he’d left, but if she was utterly desperate to come back, she could. Provided she could interpret what he’d written correctly. Otherwise she’d just end up throwing herself off the Brooklyn Bridge. He shuddered at the thought of that and decided he needed another drink rather urgently, but looked up to see Charlie and Patrice glued to each other by the lips again.

“Oh for God’s sake!” Stuart muttered, standing abruptly. He began to make his way over to them, limping determinedly. Unfortunately for Stuart, who was still using a crutch to help with his knee, some idiot had spilt their drink in the precise spot where his cane had just landed. It slipped and Stuart followed suite, his bad leg buckling under his sudden, unsupported weight.

Just before he landed on his face, a pair of hands appeared out of nowhere and grabbed his arms, pulling him back to his feet.

“Oh my God, are you OK?” A distinctly female voice asked. After making firmly sure that he wasn’t going to fall again (and that he wasn’t actually having a heart attack), Stuart looked at his rescuer and balked.

“Did you catch me?” He asked in confusion, but only because this woman was tiny, barely reached his chin in fact and didn’t look like she could’ve caught Kate, let alone Stuart. She nodded and pushing a strand of dark hair behind her left ear.

“Yeah. Are you OK?”

“Yeah, yeah, I slipped, that’s all.” He cleared his throat in a manner that he hoped was not as awkward as it felt. “Thanks. For helping me, I mean.” She shrugged, looking down at her feet. Stuart glanced down too, taking in her loafers and then his own.

“It’s no problem. Are you gonna be OK getting out of here?” Stuart thought, for approximately one second, that this woman (who, he thought, was as hot as Patrice. As hot as Kate, even) was hitting on him, before he remembered that there was a small staircase at the entrance of this stupid bar. He went to tell her that he wasn’t actually leaving, just going over to his friend, when it hit him.

Why shouldn’t he leave? He wasn’t having fun, he wasn’t in the mood to have fun, he had all of his crap in his coat pockets and he knew Charlie had enough money for a cab.

“Actually, if you’re willing, that’d be a real help.” He said, instead of telling her that his friend was by the bar. He didn’t even try to catch Charlie’s eye as he left. He’d see him tomorrow. “I’m Stuart, by the way.” The woman smiled at him and Stuart found himself smiling back.

“I’m Trish.” She offered, linking her arm through the one that wasn’t holding his crutch. They walked towards the exit very quietly, listening to the music blaring through the speakers. Stuart thought it might be Destiny’s Child, but he wasn’t quite sure. Either way, the music was loud and made a good excuse not to talk, which gave Stuart a few moments to study the woman beside him.

She had a very pleasant face, one that was made for smiling Stuart thought, with big brown eyes that were magnified by the chunky glasses that perched on her nose. Her dark skin had a sheen of sweat to it, and Stuart guessed she must’ve been part of the large group of girls that had been squeezed together on the tiny dance floor a few minutes earlier. Her dark hair was long and styled in loose curls, but Stuart could tell that it wasn’t like that naturally. Probably chemically straightened, he guessed. She was quite (how would Leopold put it he wondered) well-endowed, big hips, small waist, nice chest and probably a nice ass too, if he had to guess. Not that he’d had chance to look, but a man could hazard a guess.

He was so busy hazarding a guess that it took Stuart a moment to realise that they were halfway up the stairs and Miss Trish was halfway through saying something.

“- and I tried to get out of it, I mean, I’m hardly a party girl, ” Stuart was obviously staring because she stopped and laughed self-consciously. “I’m rambling, aren’t I?”

“Yeah, a little.” They stepped out in to the cold night air and Trish shivered beside him. “Thanks for your help. With the stairs and the…other thing.” She smiled again and shrugged.

“It’s OK. You gonna be OK getting a cab?” He nodded, slipping his arm free of hers and only missing her warmth slightly. She wrapped her arms around herself and bit her lip, rocking on her heels a little.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine, thanks. You should get back inside. It’s pretty cold out tonight, wouldn’t want my saviour catching a chill.” He grinned wryly. She chuckled and shook her head.

“I will, in a minute. I just want to...” She trailed off, staring up in to the night sky. There were hardly any stars to be seen. She sighed and turned to him, smiling only slightly sadly. “Can’t always get what we want, huh?” She shuffled for a moment, before holding her hand out to him. “Nice to meet you Stuart. Get home safe.” He laughed and took her hand, giving it a quick shake.

“You too Trish. And thanks, again.” She smiled at him one last time before heading back inside. 

‘Yes,’ Stuart thought, looking up at the night sky and those hardly visible stars, ‘you can’t always get what you want.’ He couldn’t remember the next line of the song, couldn’t remember any of it actually, aside from that one line. Suddenly all he wanted to do was go home and go to sleep. And really, he deserved it. It had been a long week.

-

Some 125 years earlier, Lady Katherine Mountbatten, Duchess of Albany, turned to her husband and said “Leopold, darling, what’re these notes doing here?”


	2. Are Together in Eternity

They were sat quite contentedly in Leopold’s study when Kate found the notes. A big wodge of papers stuffed haphazardly in one of the drawers in his desk, the detailed notes were almost indecipherable had it not been for the drawings crammed in next to them. Kate recognised them instantly, she’d seen them plenty of times over her last four years.

“Leopold, darling, what’re these notes doing here?” Leopold looked up from the model of what would eventually become the elevator and started when he saw the papers.

“Oh! Yes, I had completely forgotten about those, what with all the excitement of your appearance and the wedding. Stuart gave them to me, in case I should ever need or desire to return to the future, although he did expressly tell me not to come back until I had finished with my invention.” Kate blanched for a minute, completely stunned.

She’d been there, in the past, for almost three months and Leopold hadn’t mentioned these notes once. For months, she had struggled, knowing she would never see her brother or her dad or her friends again (God, she would have killed to see Charlie again, sometimes late at night she would wake up, feeling like her very soul was aching because she missed her brother that much). And it had only gotten worse since she’d realised her new position in this society. Women had basically no rights, she couldn’t vote, she couldn’t walk anywhere ‘unattended’, she couldn’t even wear pants. She’d mentioned this to Leopold a few times, and while he sympathised (and he did truly sympathise, Leopold was not one for lying), he didn’t really understand what she meant. He’d always lived in a world where women were lesser, and while he himself didn’t necessarily subscribe to that theory, it didn’t mean he was fighting for any advancement on their behalves either.

She sometimes wondered if he’d have stayed in the 21st century if she’d asked him to, but never dwelled on it for too long because it wasn’t a fair question to ask. Asking Leopold to stay would’ve been asking him to unravel the very fabric of time for her, at least according to Stuart, and his theories had been pretty accurate regarding everything else. Besides, he would’ve agreed anyway. Kate knew that. She knew that from the moment she saw him staring at her at his uncle’s ball. Leopold would go to the very ends of the earth for her, would die for her without a single complaint, would give up everything for her without a second thought. A little thing like unravelling the space-time continuum wouldn’t even phase him when it came to Kate. And she would do the same for him. Had done, in fact.

Despite all that, despite knowing that Leopold was her one and only, Kate found herself suddenly and irrationally furious with him. She slammed the papers down on his desk, and he jumped, staring up at her with wide eyes.

“I cannot believe you!” She snarled, cold fury twisting her features in to something unpleasant. “You’ve known, from the minute I got here, that I missed 2001, that I missed my brother and my Dad, and God, even Stuart, and you just had these notes up here the entire time! I could’ve gone back and said a real goodbye to them ten times over by now Leopold!” She jumped to her feet and began pacing the length of the room, Leopold watching her warily from his seat beside his working model.

“I mean, I miss them so much, sometimes so much that I want to go back, did you know that?” He shook his head, mouth turning downwards even further. At that, the clear sign that he was upset, Kate found herself deflating slightly, but not completely. Before all of the anger was gone, she found herself saying one last horrid thing. “Sometimes I hate it here so much that I think about climbing back up that bridge and throwing myself off, just on the off chance that I might get back!”

Leopold stood so quickly that his chair toppled over backwards. He strode over to his wife and pulled her to his chest, pressing his lips to the crown of her head.

“Kate,” He said against her scalp, “My Kate, oh my lovely Kate, I had no idea-” He cut himself off and Kate realised he was shaking. She wrapped her arms around him and held him tight as they both stood there, unsure of what to say next.

“Leopold, I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking, I was angry, I didn’t-”

“You did.” She pulled away from her husband so she could look him in the eye. He was looking down at her, face serious, grave almost, watching her intently. “Kate, I believe I know you better than I have ever known anyone, perhaps even than I know myself, and I know that when you say things in anger, you are saying what you truly believe. To know that you have been considering such extremes…Kate, that terrifies me.” Kate reached up and pressed her palm to his cheek and Leopold turned to press a kiss to it. “If I were to lose you, I don’t know what I would do. You are the very centre of my universe.” With her spare hand Kate brushed away the tears that had started running down her cheeks as she took a shuddering breath in.

“I know Leopold. You mean more to me than anything, I adore you, and I didn’t mean to upset or frighten you, I’m just-” she paused, searching for the right word. “Frustrated, I guess. This life is so different from what I was used to, and I know I should have expected that, but the expectations and the reality don’t exactly match up, y’know?” He nodded slowly, watching her. Sniffling, she carried on. “You don’t have to worry. I’m not gonna throw myself off the Brooklyn Bridge.” Managing a small smile, she pressed a light kiss to his lips.

“I appreciate the reassurance Kate, but it does nothing to assuage my fears.” He paused, taking in a deep breath and leading Kate back to her chair. It was a big, blue over-stuffed affair, clearly built for comfort rather than practicality and Kate loved it more than she had ever loved any of her ex-boyfriends. She settled herself in it, adjusting her skirts while Leopold brought his chair over so they could sit knee-to-knee. “Kate, I am truly sorry. I didn’t realise how terribly you missed Charles and your father. If I had, I would have tried to help. Although, I really did forget about Stuart’s notes Kate, I wouldn’t omit something so important to you on purpose. I was just so delighted that you were here and that we were married, I’m afraid I ended up being rather self-centred. Can you ever forgive me?”

Smiling, Kate reached across and took his hands in hers.

“Of course I can. Can you forgive me?”

“I already have.” They smiled at one another for a moment, before Leopold’s face grew serious again. “Kate, do you ever wish you hadn’t come here? That we had gone our separate ways and you still lived in the future with your family and Stuart?” Leopold, for some reason, had decided that Stuart was practically Kate’s family, and thus he was included in every single conversation the pair ever had on the subject. Kate shook her head.

“No. Leopold, I love you more than,” she paused, searching for an analogy that he’d understand, racking her brains for anything that he’d know, “more than Orpheus loved Eurydice, y’know?” She knew he knew that one. They’d been to see an Opera on the subject just last week. He chuckled.

“You would face the God of Death for me?”

“Leopold, I would fight the God of Death in a Denny’s parking lot for you.” Leopold sort of lost the analogy about half way through the last sentence, but he understood the sentiment and grinned widely.

“As would I for you, my love. And if you wish to return to the future, I shan’t stop you. I would rather live a life of misery knowing you were happy, rather than live a day of happiness knowing you were miserable.” Kate rolled her eyes.

“OK, Mr Melodramatic, take it down a couple of notches. I’m not leaving you to go back to the future,” she paused to giggle to herself at the thought of that, Kate Mcfly and Doc Mountbatten, “I just want to go back for a few days, settle my affairs as it were. Do you think you’d be up for that?”

The grin she got in return was answer enough.

“So it’s official then. The Mountbatten-McKays are taking a vacation to the future.” She laughed, leaning forward to kiss her husband.

-

Charlie woke up at 11am on a couch in an apartment he didn’t recognise. Sitting up, he came to the conclusion that the world was, in fact, spinning the wrong way so he lay back down again. Someone was cooking something, but he wished they’d stop. The smell was making him-

“HURK!” He leant over the side of the couch and vomited in to a strategically placed plastic waste basket. He wondered for a minute if Kate had something to do with that, until he remembered. Kate wasn’t there anymore. He groaned as all the worries that he’d had the previous night came flooding back to him.

Kate and Leopold were meant for each other. He had absolutely no doubt about that, they were like the couples from those romantic novels that Kate’s P.A. read all the time, except more believable. Like Romeo and Juliet, except they were in their thirties and no one had to die. Either way, they were meant to be, Charlie was sure of it. And he was delighted for them, really he was. But his sister running off in to the past had created a few problems for him.

For one thing, one very selfish thing, Charlie would admit, where was he supposed to live now? Kate paid most of the bills in the apartment, and most of the rent too, and Charlie’s acting gigs were few and far between right now, there was no way he’d be able to keep that apartment afloat on his own.

And then, there was the matter of what to tell their dad. Frank McKay had been a mess since his wife had died six years ago, and Kate was the apple of his eye. If he thought, as Charlie was sure many people would, that she’d committed suicide, he didn’t know what his dad would do. Charlie would have to come up with something good quickly to stop his dad from doing anything drastic.

Plus there was the whole ‘police’ thing. A police officer had seen he and Stuart telling Kate to jump. If they were ever found, they would likely be charged with…something. Charlie wasn’t sure what. Maybe manslaughter? And that would not be good. He was already worrying that Stuart might get found and thrown back in the loony bin, but getting charged with manslaughter? That was an entirely different kettle of fish. You couldn’t get out of charges of manslaughter by just not talking about time travel (Yes Stuart, it literally would’ve been that easy), with manslaughter you went to prison. And Charlie really, truly believed he was way too cute for prison.

“Goddamn.” He muttered, sitting up very slowly. “Goddamn it Kate.” He could practically hear her voice making some smart-aleck reply, and that was when the really, really awful thought crept back in to Charlie’s head.

His sister was gone. She was dead. She had died in 1922, eighty years earlier. He would never see her again, or hear her voice again, or sit with her on an early Saturday morning and eat stupid sugary cereal while she bitched about how bad it was for him. He could visit his sister’s grave.

A few minutes later, Patrice walked in to her sitting room and found Charlie McKay, sat on the floor, hugging her waste paper basket to his chest, staring at the wall.

-

Meanwhile, as Charlie began to have a breakdown in his new girlfriend’s apartment, Stuart was on his way to the library. More specifically, to the New York Public Library, which had the best local history section that he had access to. Realistically, Stuart could have just done more research on Google, but he’d honestly always preferred book research. He found it relaxing. He had no idea why, and Kate had always thought it was a little crazy, but Stuart didn’t care. He enjoyed it.

His cab pulled up outside the building and he paid the fare before climbing out, not without some difficulty thanks to his bad leg. He cursed Leopold and elevators and just his life in general when he saw how many stairs he had to climb to reach his destination.

“Why can’t anything ever be on the ground? Not under it, not above it, just on it.” He muttered to himself as he made his way to the stairs. At the bottom of them, he stared up at the doors and sighed. He got the feeling this was going to be a long research trip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, so Kate’s got issues, Charlie’s got issues, Stuart has significantly less serious issues revolving around stairs…From this point on assume that everyone in this fic has issues (except maybe Leopold, but I’m sure we can find something for him too), and they’re all going to try and resolve them. Poor Kate though…Slight sidenote, I will forever maintain that ‘I would fight the God of Death in a Denny’s Parking Lot for you’ is the best piece of dialogue I have ever written. Next Chapter: Stuart makes it to the library and does some research. The Author makes up what happens to Kate and how it affects History ™. Charlie and Stuart make arrangements.


	3. I Need You More Than Ever

It took Stuart a good half hour to get up the stairs and up to the section he needed, and even then he wasn’t entirely sure what he was looking for. So after a few minutes of flailing and grabbing any book that seemed like it might be relevant to his quest, Stuart headed over to a table and took a seat. Picking up the first book, A Cultural History of New York, he flipped to the index and started looking for anything relating to the Mountbattens. There was, surprisingly, a small list beneath the name:

Mountbatten, Fredrick 181, 205, 304-306. 

Mountbatten, Kate 34, 56-57, 181, 205, 304-305

Mountbatten, Leopold 34, 56-57, 138, 181, 205, 304-306.

“Oh good God, what did they do?” He muttered, flipping to page 56. There the book discussed the pair’s intense and very public relationship, which was thought to have inspired several books and even an opera (allegedly, at least), and was categorised (by the author at least) as ‘New York’s most famous real-life romance’. Stuart groaned and threw the book down in disgust. He was happy for them, but he didn’t exactly want to read about how perfect and awe-inspiring Kate’s love-life was. In fact, he would like to go the rest of his life without ever hearing about how Kate and Leopold were practically soulmates again.

He sighed and flicked to the next page that mentioned them. This one was far more interesting.

‘Lady Katherine Mountbatten’ it read ‘is credited as being the woman to coin the term ‘Feminist’, and indeed began the movement that has evolved in to the Feminism that many recognise today. A champion of Women’s Suffrage, the Duchess of Albany encouraged and petitioned for equal marriage laws, especially in regards to interracial marriage and divorce laws. She also fought for higher wages for lower class workers and vocally supported sex workers and the improvement of their working conditions. Her husband was quieter on the subjects but always expressed his support for them when questioned. In one letter to a personal friend, written shortly after Mountbatten wrote “Though you may not agree with my wife’s views, and I understand why, as to many they seem radical, but I cannot help but think they are the way of the future. After all, is it not true that the belief that the world was spherical was once considered to be radical? Now it is a commonly accepted fact. I consider my dearest Kate’s beliefs to be much in the same vein. I do not think that seeking the betterment of others conditions should be considered radical in any matter.”’

“Holy crap.” Stuart breathed, putting the book down again. He should’ve known Kate would’ve found something to occupy herself, he just hadn’t expected her to become a champion of women’s rights. For God’s sake, Kate had never even shown any inclination towards Feminism in the present. He was only half-surprised that Leopold agreed with her, really. He’d adapted to the modern world amazingly well, considering he’d only been there for less than a week, so it wasn’t exactly shocking that he was willing to accept his wife’s modern ideals. He glanced back at the open pages of the book, and pinched the bridge of his nose. Only Kate. Only Kate would go back to the 19th Century and become a Feminist icon. “Jesus Christ.”

He pulled out his journal and made a few quick notes to relay to Charlie later, although he made sure to copy down Leopold’s letter exactly, but only because he suspected that Charlie was worrying about his sister’s fledgling relationship and how it had fared. It’d do him good to see that Leopold had supported Kate in all her endeavours, no matter how odd they’d seemed to him.

He read a little more of that book, learning of how, after Leopold had patented the lifting cars, the pair of them had gone on to become patrons of theatres and libraries all over the city, as well as the New York University, making the odd note here and there before he moved on to the next book.

Really, they all said more or less the same thing: Kate and Leopold were madly in love and madly progressive, to the point of being anachronistic (Goddammit Kate). Kate was a champion of Women’s Rights and a strong promoter of civil rights, while Leopold was her staunch, silent supporter. By the end of the third book, Stuart had realised he wasn’t going to get much more than that.

He was just considering giving up when someone set a large pile of books down by his elbow. Startled, he turned and found himself face to face with a vaguely familiar pair of bespectacled brown eyes.  

“Hi.” The woman from last night, Trixie or Tracy or something like that, was looking down at him, eyebrows raised.

“Hello.” There was a pregnant pause as they looked between each other and their piles of books. “Can I…Help you with something?” She rolled her eyes and pulled out the seat beside him.

“If you’re reading up on local history, these books,” she gestured to the pile she had set down beside him, “would be better than those.” Stuart’s brows furrowed as he grabbed the book at the very top, ‘A General History of New York’.

“What makes you think I’m researching local history?”

“Aside from the fact all those books are from the local history section, you mean?” She shrugged, hands burying in to her pockets as she grinned lopsidedly. Trish, Stuart suddenly remembered, that was her name. The woman with the contagious smile. “Just a guess. Am I right?”

He shrugged, smiling slightly.

“I suppose you’re not wrong. I’m researching some wealthy benefactors of a local University. Some old, rich Duke you’ve probably never heard of.” Trish snorted, crossing her arms and leaning back in her chair.

“Third Duke of Albany, by any chance?” Stuart all but blanched, staring at her, mouth hanging open in shock. “Yeah, I know about him, and his wife.” Stuart spluttered unintelligently for a moment before he managed a little

“What?”

Trish laughed, reaching across and plucking ‘A Cultural History of New York’ from his discarded pile of books. She waved it in his face for a moment.

“You think you’re the only one that’s read this? I have a copy at home. Signed and everything.”

“So you know local history, then?”

“You could say that.” She had an expression on her face that was daring him to ask her more. And Stuart found he couldn’t resist taking the bait.

“And?” She grinned widely and wiggled in her chair as though she was especially pleased with herself.

“And I did my dissertation on the building of the Brooklyn Bridge and the effects it had on the daily life of the lower classes in New York. I did my Master’s thesis on the advancement of New York in to a centre of culture and I am currently doing my PhD thesis on Katherine Mountbatten and how her efforts regarding the advancement of women’s rights affected the overall fight for women’s suffrage in the late 18th century.” Stuart got the distinct feeling that she was dumbing those subjects down for him and he still felt just a little lost, staring at her like she was speaking Arabic. She sat back and watched him expectantly, hands folded neatly in front of her on the table.

“I wasn’t expecting that.” Stuart managed finally, laughing a little. Trish smiled a little knowing smile, as though she got that kind of thing a lot, and shrugged.

“Yeah, I guessed that too.” She looked down, eyes flicking over the titles of the books on the desk. “You know, none of these books have a whole lot of useful information about the Mountbattens. If you wanted something more specialised I could give you a few titles to look out for.” He thought about it for a minute, before asking

“What’re the chances I’d be able to find those books in a library?” Trish’s little smile disappeared, her lips turning downwards in a half-frown as she thought on it.

“Slim, probably. I take it you’re not invested enough to actually buy them, then?” Stuart shook his head, his nose wrinkling in disgust at the idea.

“I only want a little information on them. I’m not concerned enough to actually spend money on academic works. That stuff’s expensive.” Looking thoughtful, Trish flipped through the book in front of her absent-mindedly.

“It sure is. What did you study?” Stuart picked up one of the books from the pile Trish had brought over with her and opened it to the index, checking for Leopold and Kate’s names.

“Physics as a major, with a minor in Applied Mathematics when I was an undergrad, and Quantum Mechanics as a Master’s. Never got my PhD, didn’t have the money. Might go back and do it in the next few years though.” She nodded, still flipping through the pages of that book. Neither of them speak for a few minutes as they look at their respective books, and Trish drew out a leather-bound notebook that she started scribbling in. Just as Stuart was considering leaving, she spoke up again, without looking at him.

“I could lend you a few books if you wanted. The ones I don’t need right now, I mean. If you’re invested enough to want to read them.” She steadily did _not_ look Stuart in the eye as he studied her profile. She was blushing, he noticed, purposefully averting her eyes. It took a moment for him to realise what she was actually proposing.

“And, if I did want these…books, how would I get them, exactly?” There was a slight pause as Trish turned to face him, chewing slowly at her lower lip. They stared at each other for a moment, before Stuart, feeling his cheeks start to burn, turned away, back to the book in his lap.

“I thought maybe we, we could meet for coffee and I could give you a few of my notes on them, if you wanted.” She said eventually. “You’d pay obviously, because I saved your face and your research in the space of two days.” That broke the little aura of embarrassment that was surrounding them both, and Stuart let out a bark of laughter, that earned him a few annoyed looks from the people that were dotted around them. He ignored them in favour of smiling widely at Trish. 

“I think I’d like that.”

“Great, that’s really…great.” She laughed a little self-consciously, tucking a stray strand of dark hair behind her left ear. Most of it was tied back in a loose bun, with a few other stray pieces framing her face. It was a good look for her, very cute-librarian-esque. Again, they fell silent, before Stuart decided to take a leap of faith.

“How ‘bout we get a coffee now? And we can talk a little about your notes?” Trish looked up at him, biting the left corner of her lower lip before smiling gently.

“You know, I think that’d be great.”

-

They went to a Starbucks a couple of minutes’ walk down the street and found a table at the very back with two plush armchairs. Seeing as how it was the middle of the day on a Tuesday, the cafe wasn’t massively crowded, with most people getting drinks to go. Since Stuart was apparently paying for their second coffee date, Trish insisted on paying for this one.

“My hero.” Stuart offered dryly when she drew out her purse to pay the bored looking barista. Trish just rolled her eyes, handing over ten dollars to the guy. She dumped the change she got back straight in to the tip jar. They went to their table and waited for their names to be called.

“I wouldn’t have pegged you for a latte type of guy, y’know.” Said Trish as she took off her jacket, an old, cracked leather thing that looked like it had been grabbed from a bargain bin at a thrift store. Stuart chuckled, shrugging out of his own coat, wincing only slightly at the twinge in his elbow as he did so.

“Oh yeah? What would you’ve pegged me for then?”

“Espresso. Or black coffee at the very least. Maybe a cappuccino if you were in the right mood.” He huffed out a laugh, and leant forward on to his crossed arms.

“And what would the right mood be, exactly?” She grinned then, leaning forward conspiratorially, so close that their noses nearly touched.

“You tell me Stuart.” He wondered for a brief moment if it would be too forward to kiss her right then and there, but was immediately prevented from doing so by the barista calling her name. She leaned back, cheeks flushed and looked at him in a way that he didn’t quite understand.

“I’ll be right back.” She called over her shoulder as she headed over to collect their drinks. He watched her walk away, feeling only a little validated at the sight of her _very_ nice ass. Today was shaping up to be the best Stuart had had in a while.

Of course, it was at that point that Charlie McKay decided to ruin _everything_. Apparently, it was a family trait.

Stuart’s phone rang, blaring out some annoying song that he didn’t even recognise or remember downloading, Charlie’s name flashing up on the screen. Sighing, Stuart answered the call, mentally cursing the entire McKay family (OK, maybe not Mr McKay, he was alright, as far as over-protective fathers went).

“Whattaya want Charlie?”

“Where the Hell did you go last night Stu? Me and Patrice looked all over for ya, I was beginning to think you’d gone and jumped off the Brooklyn Bridge yourself!”

“And yet, this is the first time you’ve called me.”

“Don’t get snippy with me Stuart, I was very worried, and also very drunk and I spent most of the morning throwing up in to Patrice’s toilet, so I am in no mood right now, OK?”

“Yeah, fine, I went home. I was bored and in pain and you were busy making out. I didn’t think you’d miss me all that much.” He paused for a moment, exhaling heavily through his nose. Glancing over, he noticed Trish laughing with the barista and smiled slightly. Then he sighed again. “Look, Charlie, I’m sorry if I worried you, I didn’t mean to, OK?” Down the phone Charlie sighed.

“Yeah, OK. Just don’t scare me like that again, Jesus Christ, Stu. Where the hell are you anyway? I’ve just been to your place and you weren’t there. Bart peed in the kitchen by the way.” Resisting the strong temptation to bash his head in to a nearby wall, Stuart growled.

“Did you clean it up?”

“No way man, that’s your dog and your apartment, so it’s your problem.”

“Currently Charlie, you are my problem.”

“C’mon Stewie, you don’t mean that.” Stuart looked over to where Trish was stood, making light conversation with the barista. She caught his eye and motioned for him to keep talking. God, he was being so rude.

“Trust me Charlie, yes, you are.”

“Whatever. Where are you Stuart?”

“I’m in the Starbucks near the Public Library.”

“Wait, the one that’s like a two minute walk from it? Holy crap, I’m right by that, I’ll come in now, see you in a sec!”

“No, Charlie, don’t! I’m on a-” It was too late, Charlie had already hung up. Stuart stuffed his phone back in to his pocket, cursing under his breath all the while.

“Is everything OK?” Trish was placing his latte down, looking at him with worried eyes.

“No, my friend’s on his way, he’s decided to join us for a coffee. Sorry.” Looking mildly surprised, although not as angry as Stuart might have expected, Trish sat back in her chair, and took a long slurp from her frozen frappe thing.

“It’s OK. I don’t mind.” She said eventually. “But just so you know, as revenge, I’m bringing my mother with us next time we get coffee.” Stuart nodded.

“That seems fair.” They grinned at one another again and Stuart was definitely 100% about to ask for her number when Charlie appeared.

“Hey Stu!” He chirped, grinning more cheerfully than anyone with a hangover ever had the right to do. At least until he noticed Trish, quickly glancing between them for a moment before the cheerfulness was gone, replaced by a cunning knowingness that Stuart didn’t like at all. “And who might this lovely lady be?” Stuart sighed, immediately knowing that Charlie was going to make him miserable about this for potentially the next week or so.

“Charlie, this is Trish, she’s helping me with a research project. Trish, this is Charlie, he’s-”

“I’m his roommate.” Charlie cut in, dragging a chair from the nearest table over and plonking himself down in it. Stuart stared at him, mouth hanging open just a bit at that proclamation.

“My wha-”

“Yeah, I only moved in recently, which is probably why you haven’t heard about me, right Stuart?” Stuart couldn’t quite work out whether it was fury or bewilderment that was stopping him from saying anything, but it didn’t matter because Charlie was ploughing merrily ahead with whatever he thought he was doing.

“So a lady-scientist huh? I hear those are pretty rare.”

“I’m not a scientist. I’m a historian.” Trish offered before taking another slurp of her iced coffee slushy. Charlie looked confused, his mouth pressing in to a thin line and his brows furrowing and Trish must have noticed because she elaborated a second later.

“Stuart’s doing a personal project on the Mountbatten’s, and he needed a little help. Hence, me.” She directed a sweet smile at Stuart when she said that, but he was still too busy frothing at the mouth about Charlie’s declaration to return it. Charlie laughed then, and Stuart knew, in that moment, right before Charlie spoke his next words, that he was going to have to throttle the other man as soon as Trish was gone.

“So this is like a date between the History nerd and the time travel mystery nerd?” Both Stuart and Trish stared at Charlie like he was insane as he laughed at his little rhyme.

‘Yeah, laugh it up Charlie.’ Stuart thought bitterly. ‘We’ll see who’s laughing when I let Bart pee on everything you love.’

“The time-travel mystery nerd? What’s that supposed to mean?” Trish looked between them expectantly, eyebrows raised. Charlie looked to Stuart who simply glared and shook his head very slowly in returned. “Uh, Stuart?” Sighing, Stuart tried his best to not sound crazy as he explained Charlie’s odd choice of nickname.

“It’s a…theory I’ve been working on. I think time travel could be possible, and Charlie is just delighted” he may or may not have snarled the word ‘delighted’ but at the time it had seemed appropriate “about that.”

“Well, it’s a cool theory. Stuart’ll probably tell you about it next time you go out. I mean, you are gonna go out with him again, aren’tcha?” Trish blinked, clearly taken aback by that and stuttered something out, a flush rising to her cheeks again.

“W-well, we were making plans to meet so I could give him some books, but we hadn-”

“Great!” Charlie grinned. “How’s Thursday at 4 for you, is that good?” Trish looked to Stuart for guidance, but when she only received a confused headshake and vague hand gestures in response, she nodded. “Great, Stuart’ll meet you here, then. Until then, we gotta go, but it was nice meeting you!” Charlie grabbed Stuart’s arm and pulled him to his feet, not nearly mindful enough of his shattered kneecap, and shooed him out the coffee shop, leaving Stuart’s half-drunk latte and a very confused Trish in their wake.

  As soon as they were out of the door, Charlie’s cheerful grin melted away and he turned to Stuart.

“I’m moving in with you.” He declared with an air of certainty that, when Kate had used it, meant that there were to be no arguments, it was that way or the highway.

“No, you are not.”

“Oh yes I am. I can’t afford Kate’s apartment by myself, and I am not moving back in with my dad! I mean, I’m nearly 30, do you know how pathetic that would be?!” Stuart glared at him steadily, lips drawn back in a half-formed snarl.

“About as pathetic as a 30 year old man not being able to afford his own apartment?” He suggested, hoping to get a rise. If he got a rise out of Charlie, it might give him an excuse to punch him, which Stuart sorely wanted to do right about now.

“Look man, you are my best friend right now, and I have nowhere else to go. Please.” Stuart actually took pause there, because Charlie looked so frighteningly earnest. It was then that he remembered that Charlie had basically just lost his sister too. He sighed in defeat, but Charlie didn’t notice because he was still talking. “And think of it this way, Stewie, if the police come knocking we’re gonna need alibis. And what if they try to put you back in the loony bin? You’re gonna need someone to vouch for you. That could be me! Plus-”

“Jesus, fine! You can live with me, just shut up!” The cry earned him a few stares from people passing by, but at that point, Stuart no longer gave a crap. “C’mon, let’s head home, we can set up some ground rules there.” Charlie’s cheerful grin reappeared and he reached forward and pulled Stuart in to a hug. “Ugh, get off me Charlie.”

“Just a minute longer.”

“Charlie!” With only minor hesitation, Charlie released Stuart from his grip, although he was still grinning like a nutjob. “Quit smiling like that, you’re freaking me out.”

“I can’t help it, I’m just so stoked!” Stuart pinched the bridge of his nose, suddenly feeling unduly exhausted.

“OK, ground rule number one: You are 100 per cent banned from ever using the word stoked again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: In this chapter Stuart is hopeless and awkward and desperate for love, and those traits just happen to turn Trish on. Charlie is super lucky that Stuart didn’t actually kill him, but that would make for a completely different kind of fic I suppose.  
> Guys, not to be crass, but I am a total slut for feedback. Even if it’s only ‘OMG can’t wait for the next chapter!’ I will be 3000x more likely to write that chapter that very evening. Please folks, comments keep my morale high, come and yell at me about this fic, I am awaiting it with open arms, eyes, ears, whatever.  
> So anyway, that having been said, in the next chapter, we catch up with Leopold and Kate and see what they’ve been up to and Stuart and Charlie start to actually adapt to living with each other. And maybe Stuart goes on a date, I haven’t decided yet.

**Author's Note:**

> What is this? I don’t know. It was a fic idea that I had that took on way more than it was originally going to. I guess it’ll go somewhere eventually. Basically, I just want Stuart to have a nice time in this fic, because he had a lousy time in the movie and was left without a clear-cut happy ending (Charlie didn’t get one either, but he got Patrice, so…) and I kinda wanted to fix that while also exploring what would happen next for the characters. In the next chapter, Stuart goes to the library, Charlie realises what it means now his sister is gone, and Leopold and Kate come to an agreement. Reviews are highly appreciated.


End file.
